


Honeymoon

by 11Adrienne058



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Johnlock - Freeform, M/M, Pass the cheese, Porn, Smut, Vacation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-28
Updated: 2015-07-28
Packaged: 2018-04-11 18:44:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4447505
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/11Adrienne058/pseuds/11Adrienne058
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock is travelling to Sweden on his latest case and needs someone to pose as his newly wed husband - and who better then John?</p>
<p>Just two grown men pretending to be married travelling across Sweden looking for an assassin, what could possibly go wrong?</p>
<p>Warning: a little bit of plot with your porn.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Honeymoon

"Where the bloody hell is Sherlock?" John muttered to himself, scowling at the frozen toes in the fridge.

Sherlock had left early this morning, claiming he was following up on a case, and John hadn't seen him since. Sighing, John made a cup of tea and folded himself into the faded armchair. Usually John relied on Sherlock's brilliant mind to entertain him, but seeing as said detective was conspicuously absent, John picked up the closet newspaper, which happened to be the morning paper from two days ago. John randomly flipped through the pages, not really reading the articles, just scanning the headlines. All too soon John got to the back of the paper, where the advertisements were. John was about to place the paper down when he noticed a section of the newspaper had been carefully cut away, erasing a large advert. 

What the - ? John thought to himself, wondering what Sherlock could possibly be up to now. For Sherlock to have taken that much time and care cutting out that advert, it was either important to him or he was trying to hide something from John. Either way the older man needed to know what it was.

"Mrs Hudson!" John yelled, stamping down the stairs to her room. 

"Good heavens John!" Mrs Hudson appeared in the doorway, clutching her hand to her bosom, "What's the matter? Do you need something? Is someone hurt?" 

 

"Do you have the Tuesday newspaper?" John asked, tapping his foot impatiently on the step. 

"Tuesday's newspaper? Let me look." Mrs Hudson wondered back into her kitchen and shuffled with the papers piled next to her microwave. 

"The morning edition, please!" John called after her. 

"Here you go sweetheart," Mrs Hudson said, handing him the neatly folded paper, "I don't recall anything interesting, it was all about some sports celeb- oh wait, that was Mondays paper, Tuesday had that article.." 

Mrs Hudson rambled away, but John had stopped paying attention, he was flipping rapidly through the pages, looking for the missing advert. There it was. A big bold advert that read: 

LOOKING FOR: ATTRACTIVE HUMAN, PREFERABLY MALE. EXCITING JOB OPPORTUNITY. PAY IS 200 POUNDS A DAY. APPLY INSIDE THE COFFEE SHOP ON THE CORNER OF GEORGE STREET AND SEYMOUR PLACE. FAIRLY GOOD ACTING SKILLS ARE REQUIRED. 

What the hell? Why would Sherlock need this? Exciting job opportun- oh god, surely Sherlock wasn't applying for this job? It sounded like an advert for prostitution! Surely he wasn't that bored? There was nothing else for it. John would have to go to this bleeding coffee shop and look for the tall git.

"Thanks Mrs Hudson!" John interrupted her mid sentence, kissed her on the cheek and rushed outside, hailing a taxi and instructing the driver to find the coffee shop on the corner of George Street and Seymour Place.

Lucky for John it was fairly warm outside, because in his rush he had forgotten his jacket, something he noted as he walked from the taxi towards the -thankfully innocent looking - cafe. Entering, he swept the rather plain looking cafe, looking for Sherlock. A man dressed mostly in black caught his eye, despite the man's odd hat and weird sunglasses, John could recognise those sharp cheekbones anywhere. 

Well, at least he had the sense to put some sort of disguise on, John thought in relief. Sherlock was sitting opposite a rather attractive woman, with blonde hair, porcelain skin and thick red lipstick. The pair were chatting formally, and while Sherlock seemed to maintain a degree of professionalism, she was practically clawing at him. No doubt Sherlock had already observed John walking into the coffee shop, so John leant against the coffee counter and waited for Sherlock to leave the table, praying that Sherlock wasn't foolish enough to accept the job. Ten minutes later, to John's amazement, the blonde woman got up and left the table with a scowl on her face. John slowly made his way to the table and plonked himself down opposite Sherlock. 

After a few minutes of silence, Sherlock pulled of his hat and glasses, put his long, slender fingers together, and observed John with a reserved expression.

"I should have thought about Mrs Hudson's copy." Sherlock said quietly, in his deep baritone voice. 

John kept quiet. He knew Sherlock was talking about the newspaper, but he didn't feel the need to confirm Sherlock's words. 

Sherlock sighed, "I suppose I owe you an explanation, but first I have something to tell you." 

Pausing, Sherlock raised an eyebrow at John, as if asking whether he had anything to contribute. Like before, John remained silent. 

"Remember those series of brutal murders in France a couple weeks ago?" Sherlock asked, then not waiting for John's reply, continued. "Well, I think I've figured out who it is, and where they are going to strike next. Therefore next week I will be taking a sort of vacation, I will be going to Sweden for a few days." 

 

"What?" John stared incredulously at Sherlock, "Why? And when were you planning on telling me this?" 

"Well, if I don't go, more people will die, and the police are too stupid to deal with it. I was planning on telling you the evening before my flight, actually." 

"If you had told me the night before I wouldn't have had any time to pack you bleeding idiot!" John whisper - yelled across the table.

"You aren't going with me, John." 

John stared at him, this man seriously needed to get his head checked. How can someone so brilliant be such an idiot?

"You're insane!" John muttered, "Why can't I come with you?" 

"The trip I've booked has a lot of people going, it's a group tour and therefore it'll be easier to remain inconspicuous." Sherlock explained, as if John was an idiot.

"Still missing the part where I can't come with you?" 

Sherlock sighed, "It's a tour of Sweden for newly wed couples John." 

Newly wed couples? Like a honeymoon? But Sherlock wasn't married! Hell he didn't even have a girlfr- suddenly it clicked all together in John's mind.

"Oh my god!" John didn't even bother keeping his voice down this time, "You placed an ad for someone to act as your marriage partner?!?" 

The whole cafe turned to look at their table, causing Sherlock to storm out said coffee shop in a huff. John, running to catch up with the long legged detective, barely made it into the cab Sherlock had hailed. Sherlock sourly rattled of their address, and the drive was spent in frosty silence. 

 

Upon reaching their apartment, Sherlock immediately locked himself in his room and John could hear angry violin symphonies screeching their way under Sherlock's door. Deciding Sherlock wouldn't be retreating from his room until at least tomorrow, John heated up some leftover Chinese takeaway (ignoring the frozen toes) and headed to bed, the familiar screeching violin strangely comforting. 

\-------------------------------------

"Are we going to talk about this?" John asked, sitting down with a cup of tea and observing Sherlock's surly profile staring out the window.

"What's there to talk about?" The deep baritone voice replied.

John sighed, leant back in his chair and crossed his ankles, "I'll pretend to be your husband." 

This got Sherlock's attention. The tall brunette started and turned to face John, utter disbelief on his face.

"What?" John asked, cocking his head to one side, "Your advert said you'd prefer a male anyway, I'd imagine that's to minimise the risk that your partner ends up attracted to you, and to be honest I don't know why you didn't approach me first, I know everything about you, or at least enough to pretend to be your husband. Besides this way I can look out for you in case you do something stupid and you don't have to pay me. It makes perfect sense." 

Sherlock gazed down at John, an unreadable expression on his face, then he abruptly turned around, announcing one word, "No." 

John threw his hands up in exasperation, "Why the hell not you bleeding git? It makes perfect sense! People already think -" 

"Fine." Sherlock cut him off with exasperated look, turning around and collapsing himself onto the sofa, eyes closed and hands raised in the 'thinking position'.

John blinked, slightly surprised Sherlock had given in so easily. Deciding not to press the issue, John casually asked Sherlock about the case Lestrade had given them this morning, to which Sherlock flippantly told John it was way too simple and he wasn't wasting his time on it. The rest of the evening descended into comfortable silence.

\-----------------------------------------

"Dammit Sherlock!" John panted, wheeling his suitcase as fast as he could across the cheap flooring, following the billowing coat of the impossibly tall detective, "If you had just given me the bleeding tickets this wouldn't have been a problem!" 

Sherlock deliberately ignored John, speeding up further and making his way rapidly to an information counter, John had no idea what Sherlock said to the harassed looking lady behind the desk because by the time he caught up to Sherlock she was already leading him down a special passage, although John was willing to bet his left arm that the name 'Mycroft' was included in the brief conversation. 

 

Grumbling under his breath, John hurried after the tall, handsome git. Only Sherlock wouldn't know that you had to be at the airport at least two hours before the actual flight, for a genius the brunette could be a real idiot. Luckily they make it to the plane just in time, the air hostess lead them to their seats which were 'upgraded to first class, courtesy of the airline' aka Mycroft, not that John was complaining. The seats were so big, they could fit two people on them, and the best part? They had their own separate compartments. Mycroft could be good for something, who knew? 

They were about 4 hours into the flight, and John had just closed his eyes, when he heard the doors of his compartment open gently, and something rustle next to him, John opened one eye lazily and stared straight into piecing blue eyes.

"Sherlock!!!" John shrieked, "What the hell?" 

Sherlock had decided to lie down next to John on the spacious chair and was now staring at John quizzically. 

"We have to discuss our disguise." Sherlock stated, as if that was the most obvious reason to pie down next to a half asleep man without consent. 

"You...you're supposed to knock!" John stuttered.

Sherlock waved a hand dismissively. John stubbornly decided that the tall git wasn't going to upset him, so he pretended to be okay with the clear invasion of personal space, sighed, and gestured for Sherlock to continue.

"How long have we been together?" Sherlock asked.

"Three years." John replied immediately. Well, that wasn't exactly a lie, John had moved In just over three years ago.

"How did we meet?" 

"Through a friend, Mike if you like." John offered.

Sherlock nodded his consent, "Why are we getting married?" 

John stared at Sherlock, "Because we're madly in love?" John replied, thinking that was pretty obvious.

"If we claim that, we'll have to act in love," Sherlock pointed out.

"What else did you expect Sherlock?" 

"Just checking you're okay with that." Sherlock said, his brow crinkling with worry.

"Hey, I knew what I signed up for," John reached up and patted Sherlock's arm awkwardly.

Sherlock nodded, leaning into John's touch.

"What case are we on anyway?" John asked, leaving his hand on Sherlock's arm.

Sherlock's eyes light up with excitement, "This serial killer, the one who murdered those blonde women in France? Well he's linked to this group called The Mings, who specialise in 'sorting out any problems you have' they're basically an assassin group, but it appears this one has gone rogue, I'm not sure why, but I suspect it has something to do with the recent lack of drug trafficking through Europe, the drug trafficking industry has suffered greatly due to the new laws in France that punishes serious drug lords with death, one of the assassins who works for The Mings has a daughter who works in the drug industry, and she was put to death about a week after the new laws. She was tall, pretty and blonde. Same looking as the 6 women who were brutally murdered shortly after the execution. Coincidence I think not." Sherlock finished.

John stared at him, "You're brilliant you know that?" 

Sherlock puffed out like a proud bird. 

"So why are we going to Sweden then?" John questioned.

Sherlock threw him a 'you're a complete idiot' look and said, "Because Sweden has decided to follow France's example and change their laws too. My hypothesis is that that's where the assassin will strike next." 

Brilliant, condescending git. 

"How are we planning on identifying and defeating this assassin?" John questioned. 

Sherlock frowned, "I haven't quite thought that part through yet." 

"That's reassuring," John replied sarcastically, "Why use a couples retreat as a disguise anyway?" 

"The trip takes us through parts of Sweden that we'd look suspicious going through by ourselves," Sherlock explained, "and it's imperative that we remain unnoticed until we are sure when to strike, as this man is very dangerous and possibly unstable." 

John nodded, biting his lip in thought. He missed the way Sherlock's eyes flickered down to his mouth, following the movement of lips. 

Sherlock cleared his throat, "This vacation thing, it's also a counselling thing, it's meant to prepare couples for married life, while they accept all couples, they specialise in gay couples," Sherlock said slowly, "We may be required to talk about...feelings." 

John smirked, "I think that'll be more of a problem for you than me, Sherlock." 

Sherlock scowled and fluidly stood up, reminding John of how close they had been sitting together. 

"Enjoy the rest of your flight, John." Sherlock said, turning around to leave.

"See you in Stockholm…darling!" John teased to Sherlock's back, to which Sherlock just shook his head and promptly left the compartment. 

Chuckling, John settled down and quickly fell asleep. 

\--------------------------------------------------

Half asleep, John collected his luggage from the baggage carousel and trudged towards the exit. He could feel excitement radiating from Sherlock, and it was giving him a headache. The pair had just exited the baggage area when a shrill voice pierced the air.

"John and William Watson!" 

Sherlock groaned into John's ear quietly, grabbed John's hand and pulled him towards the shrill woman. 

Then John realised the woman was talking about them, as William was Sherlock's first name. Then John realised something else.

"You chose to take my last name?" John hissed into Sherlock's ear as said detective dragged him towards the luminous sign depicting their names.

"Problem?" Sherlock muttered, raising an eyebrow towards John. 

"Just surprising, that's all." John muttered. 

Sherlock Watson. Sherlock Watson. John and Sherlock Watson. Suppose it did have a nice ring to it. 

"Are you guys the happy couple?" The shrill, overly happy voice broke John's thought process. 

"We are." Sherlock said, with so much false enthusiasm John almost laughed, but the small blonde lady who owned the shrill voice loved it. 

"That's great! I'm Vivi, I'm your tour guide and counselor! So nice to meet you! You must be John!" She beamed up at the shorter man, who nodded in confirmation, "And you must be William!" She squealed happily, actually clapping in delight as she stared in Sherlock's direction. 

"Yes," Sherlock confirmed, "But I'd prefer Sherlock if you don't mind." 

"Not at all!" Vivi beamed, "Follow me!" 

Vivi shot off like a rocket, weaving her tiny body through the crowds, John and Sherlock shared an exasperated look, but followed her quickly, Sherlock half dragging John by his hand. 

 

Eventually they made it out the airport and Vivi was ushering them into a car with a rather large, burly looking driver. 

"You're the last couple to arrive!" Vivi informed them happily from the front seat, "I'm sure you've already seen everything on the website, but I'll repeat everything anyway. We will be on a big bus most of the trip, it has an upstairs and downstairs, upstairs there are 4 rooms, one for each couple, that contain the basics, bed, closet, bathroom etc. Don't worry, they're completely soundproofed, so you don't have to worry about disturbing the other passengers," Vivi paused at this to give John a suggestive wink, and John could feel his face flushing pink, "Downstairs there will be a breakfast area, and tables for sitting at. Breakfast will be on the bus, but lunch and dinner will be at a variety of luxury restaurants where you can experience authentic Swedish food. Any questions?" 

"That all sounds wonderful." Sherlock commented, dropping John's hand and curling his arm around John's shoulders, pulling until the two men where sitting close together. 

Vivi made a squeal of delight and turned to face the front muttering, "I love gay couples so much!" 

John and Sherlock shared another amused look, and suddenly John noticed how close they were, he could see each individual colour in Sherlock's eyes, and those perfect cupid bow lips where hovering inches above his. Quickly snapping out of it, John turned to the front, avoiding Sherlock's gaze and ignoring the soft chuckle the tall detective produced.

"Everyone! Give a round of welcoming applause to our final couple, Sherlock and John!" Vivi squealed as she entered the - admittedly impressive - tour bus. 

There were a couple of wolf whistles, whooping and clapping as Sherlock and John entered the bus. Vivi went around introducing everyone, there was a lesbian couple, Emma (a tall leggy brunette) and Rose (a short blonde, stout looking girl), another gay couple, Andrew ( an admittedly ruggedly handsome guy with short, sandy coloured hair) and Tony ( a tall dark haired guy, dressed formally and with a permanently curious look on his face) and finally one heterosexual couple, Richard (a cheeky, stocky looking fellow) and Kate (a tall, gorgeous, strong looking woman). Everyone looked very friendly, which was great and would hopefully make this trip less painful. 

Vivi asked them if they had eaten on the airplane, which they had (the flight had been an evening flight and only landed in Stockholm at 9pm) and then cheekily told them it was way past all their bedtimes and chased all of us to bed, promising that when they woke up they'd be parked in the center of Stockholm. Everyone made their way upstairs, chatting amongst themselves. John and Sherlock made their way to cabin number 4, the only empty cabin left. Upon entering the room, Sherlock immediately locked himself into the bathroom. John collapsed onto the comfortable bed, trying to ignore the fact that there was only one bed. Hauling himself up, he grudgingly unpacked his suitcase, leaving half the closest space. 

"Sherlock!" John yelled out, glad the rooms were soundproofed. 

John got a grunt in reply. Typical.

"You better not be decapitating rats or something in there." John warned, pulling on his pajama pants and an oversized T-Shirt. 

Grunt.

John sighed and cast his eyes towards Sherlock's still full suitcase, "Want me to unpack your suitcase Sherlock?" 

The door unlocked and a flurry of limbs leapt across the room, Sherlock landed on the floor and protectively caged his suitcase in his arms. The detective was dressed in a pair of black silk pants that hung low on his hips and no shirt, revealing a lot of creamy alabaster skin and toned muscles that John definitely hadn't noticed. 

"No." Sherlock said, clutching the suitcase to his torso. 

John threw his hands up in defeat, and plonked himself face first on the bed. 

"Don't look!" Sherlock ordered. 

John immediately closed his eyes and grunted, indicating he was more than happy to obey Sherlock's ridiculous command. Honestly he wasn't even curious to see what Sherlock was hiding, it was most likely something gross, like fingernails or the toes that were in the fridge. 

John slowly fell asleep to the oddly soothing sound of Sherlock running around the cabin like a lunatic.

When John woke up, he was surrounded by a warmth and a comforting scent, like nicotine, strawberry and bleach. He burrowed into the warmth contentedly. It was only when the warmth whimpered into John's ear that he opened his eyes in alarm, to find a shirtless Sherlock tangled rather thoroughly into John. John's breathing hitched, and he tried very hard not to panic, which Sherlock wasn't helping with, because as Sherlock shifted in his sleep, his hip rubbed across John's morning wood. John hissed and quickly untangled himself from Sherlock, trying desperately not to wake him.

Success. John shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts, hopped into the shower and adjusted the taps. Sherlock has always been an attractive guy, I mean it would be stupid to deny that, and sure, John had thought about it a few times, but this was Sherlock! The man probably didn't even have a penis! Unfortunately for John, that didn't stop his brain from filling with fantasies of the tall detective while John dealt with his morning wood. Fantasies of John throwing Sherlock against the bed, fucking him until they're both quivering and boneless, or Sherlock on his knees, sucking him off like a fucking porn star, looking up at him with those gorgeous, intense blue eyes. John muffled a groan as he painted the wall with thick spurts of white liquid. Why the hell did he agree to this crazy plan? 

Luckily Sherlock woke up shortly afterwards, completely oblivious, and the pair made their way down to breakfast, Sherlock chose to just have orange juice, while John grabbed some toast, noting there was butter, jam and cheese on the tables.

"Pass the cheese." John asked politely, as they sat down opposite Tony and Andrew. 

They made light conversation, and for once Sherlock behaved like a reasonable adult (he must really want to solve this case) and Tony and Andrew seemed really nice, if not a little intimidating. Vivi's high voice announced to the passengers that the day would be filled with site seeing and touristy stuff, nothing too hectic on their first day. Relieved, John spent the rest of the day being dragged around by Sherlock, who seemed determined to analyse everyone. John was quite content to snuggle into his thick coat (it was bloody freezing) and zone out Sherlock's constant chatter. Dinner was spent at a cute restaurant, everyone was chatting happily and John came to the conclusion that the entire group were really nice, maybe with the exception of Rose who was a little crass for John's liking, then again, John was having difficulty concentrating on anything because Sherlock had decided (obviously for the sake of keeping appearances) to keep his slim hand on John's thigh most of the night, and every time one of them moved and it shot a little too high, John forgot to breath. This stupid attraction he had to Sherlock was going to be the death of him. 

The pair had gotten back onto the bus, washed up, and were in their pajamas, John relaxing and Sherlock reading, when John turned to face Sherlock and clicked his fingers in front of the detective's face, demanding attention.

"What do you think of the other couples?" John asked Sherlock, genuinely interested. 

Sherlock snorted, put his book down and turned to face John, lifting up a pale hand and counting on his fingers, "Kate and Richard are so in love it's sickening, they'll make it. She's a cop, but her detective skills are pretty good, she she wins points there, Rose and Emma are a disaster, they need counselling because they aren't compatible in bed, they'll last a year max. Tony and Andrew," Sherlock chuckled, "They aren't even married, and they're doing something illegal, who knows what, but Andrews brother was concerned about the way they can't keep their hands off each other, so he forced them to go on this 'vacation'. They're totally made for each other," Sherlock chuckled again, "Tony was giving Andrew a handjob under the table this morning during breakfast." 

John gaped at him, shocked at his usual genius, and at the completely relaxed way he said 'handjob'. 

"Brilliant, as usual," John grinned at Sherlock, trying to ignore the way Sherlock's easy smile was doing funny things to his stomach. 

For the hundredth time John wondered if Sherlock really was a virgin. The older man reached over and flicked the lamp off, descending the pair into darkness. John was hyper aware of Sherlock shuffling into a more comfortable position. 

"Bloody hell, " John muttered, shivering, "It's freezing! And I thought London was cold!" 

Sherlock replied in his usual emotionless way, "I would offer to keep you warm, but your obvious desire to prove your heterosexuality to the everyone you meet means my offer would be immediately rejected." 

John scowled, not like Sherlock's tone, "Are you suggesting I'm over compensating?"

"Not at all," Sherlock's reply was quick, merely suggesting you often do illogical things based on your desire to, as I believe one would say, 'keep up with appearances', this is very obviously because - nnnng."

Sherlock's voice was cut off as John, irritated at the detectives accusation, wrapped his hand over the brunettes arm and pulled, perhaps to hard, causing Sherlock to collide roughly with John. 

"Just shut up." John said, turning to face away from Sherlock, "and do your stupid body warmth thing." 

John thought he heard a quiet chuckle, but aside from that Sherlock followed his requests, remaining quiet as he wrapped his arms around the smaller frame, drawing John in and caging him to Sherlock's body. 

It was surprisingly comfortable, and didn't take the pair very long to fall asleep at all. 

When John woke up the next morning Sherlock was already up, which John was grateful for, he refused to have a repeat of yesterday morning. John could hear the shower going, so he relaxed into his pillow lazily and shut his eyes. The ex - soldier next opened his eyes when he heard Sherlock enter the room. Big fucking mistake. Sherlock had a towel around his waist, and John could see every drop of water running down the pale expanse of the detective's toned chest. Forcing himself to close his eyes, John breathed deeply and desperately tried to forget that image. 

"Showers free." Sherlock said, his voice deeper and rougher with sleep. 

John grunted in response, making his way lazily to the shower, avoiding half naked Sherlock.

The rest of the morning passed in a similar fashion to yesterday, small talk during breakfast, Sherlock dragging him around to obsecure locations to observe clues and god knows what, a relaxed lunch and then back to the bus. 

Vivi announced that they would be travelling to the next city that afternoon, and for everyone to meet in the breakfast room. Sherlock groaned quietly into John's ear, John shot him a questioning look, but Sherlock just shook his head and tugged John into the room. John stared down at their interlocked hands and briefly wondered when that started feeling natural. John and Sherlock took their seats around one of the tables while the other couples filed in and sat around other tables. Per usual, John and Sherlock were seated next to Tony and Andrew, who were basically eye fucking each other in a way that made John feel both uncomfortable and slightly aroused - which in itself was uncomfortable. 

"Alright!! Time for your first counseling session! How exciting!" Vivi squealed, and John, now understanding Sherlock's groan, carefully held back a groan of his own. 

"Richard and Kate, we'll start with you, tell us how you met, how long you've been together and your future goals!" Vivi announced happily!

"Well!" Richard announced dramatically, clutching his hand to his chest, "Kate took one look at my gorgeous body and swooned, I had to rescue her, like a knight in shining armour!" 

Everyone laughed, even Sherlock chuckled. 

"What he means to say," Kate corrected him, rolling her eyes fondly, "Is that we met when I arrested him -I'm a cop, by the way - for streaking naked through the local fountain." 

Again, everyone laughed, although Vivi looked slightly horrified. 

"We've been together for five years, although it took two years for him to stop being annoying and start being vaguely attractive." Kate grinned at Richard, who smiled back fondly. 

"As for our future plans, we're having a hundred kids, because my genes need to be passed on. It's essential for the survival of humanity." Richard said, acting very serious. 

Kate rolled her eyes,"What he means to say is that we're adopting because his genes would be the destruction of humanity. Unfortunately he already has a daughter, luckily she's a much better person than Richard." 

Richard grinned, "I love you too, sweetheart." 

Kate smiled fondly and leaned of to kiss him sweetly. 

Vivi made a cooing sound and Andrew wolf whistled, to the amusement of the whole room. 

"Thank you for volunteering to be next, Andrew." Vivi grinned at him, Tony looked slightly horrified. 

Andrew cleared his throat, "Well we met, uh, through work I guess," he scratched his head and glanced at Tony for help, who shrugged pretty helplessly, "I thought he was the most amazing person I'd ever met, and while my brother, Tony and I became close friends, it took me 5 years to get my head out of my ass and come out to Tony, who promptly kissed me." Andrew grinned sheepishly at Tony, who was blushing adorably, "and I guess the rest is history. We haven't got any clear plans for the future, we'll just take it one step at a time." Andrew finished off with an award winning grin. 

Vivi smiled, "That's adorable." 

Tony seemed to think so too, because he was staring at Andrew in slight astonishment, before pulling him into a fierce kiss that quickly got heated, making everyone slowly uncomfortable. Vivi eyes had nearly popped out by the time they were finished and slightly dazed, she turned and fixed her gaze on John. 

Lord help me, John prayed silently, and judging by Sherlock's slight grimace, his thoughts were much the same.

"Johnny and Sherlock!" 

John grimaced, and figuring he would have to talk, opened his mouth, however, to his astonishment, Sherlock beat him to it. 

"John and I met through a friend of ours, Mike. I was looking for a roommate, and luckily for me so was John." Sherlock took a deep shaky breath, "John, he uh, really saved me from myself, I was on a path of self destruction, and an arsehole," Sherlock grinned at his feet, "Well, more of an arsehole than I am now. John is the only person who puts up with my really strange habits, bad social skills, destructive attitude and still calls me a friend. At some point I realised my intense admiration and gratification for John had turned into something more," Sherlock looked up, straight into John's eyes, and John felt something inside him shudder, "and luckily for me, John felt strongly about me too." 

Sherlock didn't mention future plans, but his intense speech seemed to be enough for Vivi, who was nearly in tears. 

"Kiss already." Someone, Emma, John decided, said in the background, however John couldn't tear his eyes off Sherlock's, heart beating alarmingly quickly. 

"Kiss! Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!" The sound of the entire group chanting was enough to grab John's attention, he turned to face the crowd, flushing.

"Oh no-" John objected immediately, "Sherlock is really uncomfortable with any public displays of affection." John tried to convince the crowd.

The chanting just got louder. 

John was about to open his mouth to protest more, when he felt long, slim fingers cupping his jaw and turning his head. John barely had time to register Sherlock's head descending before those perfect, cupid bow lips were pressing against his, moving against John's chapped lips like they were designed to fit there. 

Jesus Christ, John thought, as his eyes fluttered closed and he kissed Sherlock back eagerly. The man may be a virgin, but bloody hell, he kissed like a fucking porn star. Sherlock seemed almost desperate for it, moving his mouth over John's, taking more, faster and harder, until John had to resist the urge to moan - and then Sherlock's mouth had disappeared. 

John blinked, registering the clapping of the other couples. He didn't dare look at Sherlock, and he knew he was blushing embarrassingly, but he couldn't help it. That was the best kiss John had ever had, and it came from his fucking best friend. Needless to say the soldier couldn't concentrate on much after that, missing Emma and Rose's story completely and only realising they were dismissed when everyone stood up to leave. John followed Sherlock blindly, only snapping out of his thoughts once he realised they were stepping off of the bus.

"Where are we going?" John asked Sherlock curtly.

"Dinner." Sherlock glanced at him, concern flashing through his eyes, "You okay?" 

"Fine." John snapped, suddenly angry at Sherlock. You can't just kiss a guy without warning! 

John simmered angrily throughout dinner, getting more and more irritated as Sherlock continued to act like nothing happened. By the time the group retired to their respective rooms and the bus started moving again, John was fuming. 

"You're angry." Sherlock stated, his back to John as he removed his signature trench coat and scarf, revealing his slender body in a crisp white shirt and tight black trousers.

John considered leaving it and forgetting about the whole charade, but then Sherlock turned around and raised an eyebrow at the shorter man, face expressionless, and John lost it.

"What the fuck was that Sherlock?" John yelled, taking a step towards the detective, "You can't just kiss someone without any fucking warning! What were you thinking?" 

John was breathing heavily, and was now standing about a metre away from the still expressionless Sherlock. 

Sherlock sighed, "I am sorry John, I did not realise you would react so strongly to my affections, had I realised you were attracted to me, I would have been more car-" 

"Attracted to you?" John exploded, "Who the hell says I'm attracted to you? Maybe I just don't want to kiss you!" 

This provoked a reaction from Sherlock, who stepped forward, eyes narrowing with anger.

"Oh really?" Sherlock's voice was deathly quiet in constant to John's yelling, "You're not attracted to me at all?"

"Of course not you bleeding, self obsessed socio-mmf-" John was cut off when Sherlock reached out, wrapped his hands in John's jumper and pulled the soldier tightly against his body. 

Sherlock's mouth descended down on John's hard and forceful, while simultaneously pushing the shorter man backwards, until his back hit the wall. Sherlock caged John in, mouth hot and demanding, and oh god, there was no way John could resist that, moaning, the solider knitted his hands through the brunettes curly hair, pulling slightly and pressing himself tightly against the detective, kissing back fiercely, trying desperately to gain the dominant hand. John's efforts failed quite spectacularly when Sherlock bit down on the soldier's bottom lip, drawing a rather embarrassing moan from John, which Sherlock used as an opportunity to slip his tongue into John's mouth. John whimpered as Sherlock's tongue grazed John's, the detective tasted like nicotine and those stupid strawberry candies he was constantly sucking, and John knew he was gone. The pair roughly intertwined mouths in a deliciously messy fashion, pawing desperately at each other, John moaned and gently sucked Sherlock's bottom lip into his mouth, causing the detective to shudder against John, and release the most primal noise John had ever heard, a noise that sent shoots of heat to his already hard cock - then suddenly it was gone.

Sherlock ripped himself off the shorter man, panting heavily, eyes blown wide with lust, "Stop this now, John." Sherlock commanded, voice low and incredibly sexy.

Sherlock promptly turned around and stormed into the bathroom, shutting the door and John could hear the shower running. 

"What the fuck just happened? " John muttered to himself, although he knew exactly what happened, he had just had the hottest, most intense make out session probably in his entire life - with Sherlock of all people! Now he was just supposed to forget about it? Well fuck that! John walked purposefully towards the bathroom, opened the door quietly, stripped down to his underwear and reached for the fogged up shower door. The door opened with a rather loud sound, and Sherlock looked up from where he was leaning his forearm against the wall, shocked, at John. The detective's hair was flat against his head, drops of water were running down his face, neck, toned, pale chest, slender hips - and fucking hell, Sherlock had one hand wrapped around his thick cock, and fuck if that didn't slam heat into John, watching Sherlock jerk off against the shower wall, exactly the way he had the previous morning. 

John very carefully stepped into the shower, closed the shower door, and turned to face Sherlock, "You want some help with that?" He stared directly into Sherlock's eyes as he asked.

Sherlock's eyes darkened and he turned around, back against the shower wall, hips thrust obscenely into the air, and slowly stroked his cock, staring directly at John, but not saying anything. Keeping eye contact, John moved forward until he was centimetres away from the detective, invading his personal space but being careful not touch him.

"You don't want to start this with me, John. Back away now," Sherlock's voice was deep and gravely, eyes darkening further as he roamed John's nearly naked figure, "Before I lose my self control." 

John lifted one hand and wrapped his fingers around the base of Sherlock's cock, loving the whimper he extracted from the taller man, "Try me Sherlock." 

 

Sherlock growled and reached down to kiss the shorter man, thrusting up wantonly into John's hand, and John was more than happy to oblige. John tightened his hand and began to jerk Sherlock off roughly, enjoying the moan Sherlock emptied into his mouth. John tore his mouth off Sherlock's, and ignoring the whimper of protest the detective made, roughly attached his mouth to that pale expanse of neck, biting and sucking every inch of skin, hard enough to leave delicious looking marks. Sherlock moaned loudly as John bit down on a particular spot just below the detectives ear, causing John to grin against Sherlock's neck and suck harder on that particular spot, loving desperate noises Sherlock was producing. With his spare hand John brought his fingers up to swirl around Sherlock's hard nipple.   
John suddenly found himself being pushed backwards, until his back hit the adjacent shower wall, gasping the shorter man had to blink the water out of his eyes, however he groaned embarrassingly loudly when he saw Sherlock on his knees before the soldier. Sherlock pulled down John's underwear with an almost animalistic growl, revealing John's hard and leaking cock. Sherlock wasted no time, lurching forward and wrapping his perfect lips around the head of John's cock, forcing a second groan out of John. There was no ways, John decided as he fisted his hands in Sherlock's curls, that this sociopath turned sex god - was a virgin. At least not by the way the detective was swallowing down John's cock like a fucking pro, bringing John embarrassingly close to an orgasm in mere seconds. 

"Sherlock..." John managed to choke out, "Stop...I'm getting close.." 

Sherlock released John's cock with an obscene popping noise, a strand of saliva joining the detective's mouth to the soldier's head. John gasped as Sherlock looked up at him, eyes blackened with lust, and a filthy smirk on his perfect, swollen lips. 

"Do you want me to swallow your come, John? Milk you until you go soft in my mouth?" Sherlock's voice was deep and wicked, "Or do you want to paint my face? Cover my skin with white streaks?" 

John groaned and thrust up embarrassingly at the images Sherlock was putting in his head. Sherlock didn't wait for an answer, he clamped his lips around John again, using his tongue to flick the slit, John cried out, never been more grateful for soundproof walls. 

"Sherlock-" He warned, voice wrecked.

Sherlock responded by sliding his mouth to the base of John's cock, clamping his throat tight around the older man's length. John came with a cry and a shout of Sherlock's name, vision going dizzy as he experienced one of the most powerful orgasms of his life. Vaguely he registered Sherlock standing up and jerking his own cock briefly, until he came shuddering, coating John's stomach with white streaks. 

John washed himself off on autopilot, and Sherlock seemed contempt to stay in silence. There seemed to be a silent mutual agreement: Let's not discuss what just happened. Which suited both men just fine. 

\--------------------------------

"Alright guys, today we are going to visit the Vasa Museum!" Vivi announced excitedly the next day. 

John had no idea what that was, but judging by the look on Sherlock's face, it must be fairly exciting. The museum was big and fancy, and the exhibits were obviously fascinating but John found himself watching the excited rapture on Sherlock's face more often then the actual exhibit, so when Sherlock's pulled John across the room to look at some ancient helmet, looking so flushed and adorably excited, John couldn't help but pull Sherlock in for a brief, sweet kiss, cutting off whatever intelligent things were coming out of Sherlock's perfect mouth.

 

The pair had spent the whole morning rather awkwardly not talking about what happened the previous evening, but after that small kiss it was like the flood gates had opened. Both John and Sherlock found themselves finding excuses to touch each other, arms around waists, holding hands, lingering kisses and affectionate hugs. The whole scene was something out of a bad movie - and John knew If someone questioned it later, he'd blame it on the case, but right now he was content to stay happily in this bubble. 

After lunch Vivi gave everyone time to shop, which meant the afternoon was spent with Sherlock dragging John into funny alleyways and generally acting strangely, but John didn't mind. 

After dinner John retired to their room lazily, Sherlock had said something about 'gathering information' and then disappeared, promising to be back shortly. 

John flopped onto his side of the bed, feeling content. Deciding to do some reading while he waited for Sherlock, John rolled over onto to Sherlock's side of the bed, remember the detective had a book, John opened the draw in the bedside table and blindly felt around in it for the book. His fingers came across something smooth and cold, frowning John pulled the object out - and his heart basically stopped. The object was a long, smooth black vibrator. 

John's brain was suddenly invaded with images of Sherlock, naked and stretched open, moaning while he pumped the vibrator deep into his ass. Jesus Christ.

"Why the hell does Sherlock have this?" John muttered out loud. 

"To take care of sexual urges, why else?" A deep baritone voice answered him. 

John dropped the vibrator like it weighed a ton, and turned to face Sherlock, feeling guilty for going through his stuff. Sherlock was casually leaning against the door, watching the vibrator as it rolled off the bed and along the floor, not looking too bothered that John had been poking through his belongings. 

"Uhhh," John said weakly, "I was looking for a book?"   
Sherlock smiled lazily at him, bending over to pick up the fallen vibrator. 

Examining it, the detective casually asked, "Have you ever used one of these John?" 

John gulped, "No." 

Sherlock hummed, then looking John directly in the eyes he asked, "Want me to demonstrate for you?" 

John closed his eyes, trying desperately not to moan like a teenager. Come on, he urged himself, play his game, take what you want. 

John opened his eyes, "Honestly," he said, face impassive, "I'd rather fuck you into the mattress until you can't remember your own name." 

There was about two seconds of silence while the pair stared at each other, then suddenly Sherlock was on top of John, vibrator abandoned, kissing the soldier desperately, hungrily, in a way that had John moaning loudly. Their hips connected wildly and John scrambled with Sherlock's shirt buttons, desperate to find more of his skin. Sherlock paused long enough to rip John's jumper and T-Shirt off but then went back to attacking John's mouth and oh god, John wanted more, so much more, more than he'd ever wanted in his life. Becoming impatient the soldier ripped the buttons of Sherlock's shirt, scattering them everywhere, desperate to put his hands on Sherlock's skin. Sherlock detached his mouth from John's only to attack his jaw, his neck, his collarbone, his chest in a way that had John writhing into the air, thrusting desperately against Sherlock's mouth and hips, begging for more.

Deciding he'd had enough of Sherlock's teasing, he pushed Sherlock off him, rolling so he was straddling the tall brunette, desperately working at his trouser button, pulling down the detective's smart pants and underwear simultaneously, revealing Sherlock's swollen cock, thick and leaking. Despite the fact that John had never been with a man before - he didn't even think twice, leaning forward to lick a stripe down Sherlock's thick cock, tasting the salty pre-come and loving the way Sherlock was thrusting desperately into his face. 

"Fuck John," Sherlock's deep voice gasped out, "Just fucking get on with it, I need you inside me, fucking me, now John!" 

Chuckling at how demanding Sherlock was, John reached down and pressed his tongue against the sensitive bundle or nerves beneath Sherlock's balls. The detective cursed vividly and thrust up wildly against John's tongue, demanding more. John flicked his tongue against Sherlock's entrance a couple more times, before hesitating and pulling his head up to ask the detective a question.

"In the drawer!" Sherlock beat him too it, and for once John didn't question the detective's genius, simply reaching over and locating the lube and condom. 

Coating his fingers with a generous amount of the stuff, John pressed one finger to Sherlock's entrance and slowly pushed in, watching the detective's face contort with pleasure. Wriggling around until Sherlock seemed comfortable, John added a second finger, stretching Sherlock carefully. John curled his fingers suddenly, brushing against Sherlock's prostate, which produced a cry from the detective so animalistic that John couldn't help but moan with him. 

"More John!" Sherlock all but yelled, "Fucking hell I'm ready! Fuck me! Fuck me now!" 

With a growl John wrenched his fingers out of Sherlock's ass and unzipped his pants in record speed, pushing them down to his thighs. The soldier pulled Sherlock forward until their hips were aligned, rolled a condom on and pressed the head of his cock against Sherlock's entrance. 

Pausing, John looked up at Sherlock, taking in his breathless appearance, hair plastered down his forehead, torso covered in a light sheen of sweat. It struck John in that moment how beautiful Sherlock truly was. 

"Are you sure?" John asked softly, meeting Sherlock's blue eyes. 

Sherlock whimpered and nodded his consent, and John began inching his cock slowly into Sherlock, and fuck, It was tight and warm and fucking perfect, like their bodies were made for each other, fitting together perfectly, and judging by the noises Sherlock was making, the detective seemed to agree. John couldn't help but let out a loud groan as he bottomed out, balls deep in Sherlock's ass. 

"Move..." Sherlock whimpered. 

John obeyed, thrusting in and out slowly at first, until Sherlock's persistent 'harder' and 'faster' caught up with him, and eventually he was roughly fucking Sherlock, thrusting like his life depended on it, strings of profanities leaving his mouth. John knew the exact moment he'd hit Sherlock's prostate because the detective let out the sexiest, loudest noise yet and John, determined to hear that noise again, adjusted his angle so he was thrusting against the hard nub, rendering Sherlock incapable of proper speech.

John could feel his orgasm building fast, "Sherlock," He warned, "I'm about too..." 

John trailed off moaning, but Sherlock clearly got his message because the next thing he said was definitely clear, clear and commanding. 

"Come inside me John, mark me, claim me, I want to feel you coming inside me, come now!" 

Sherlock's commanding voice tipped John over, as he rode out his orgasm in powerful waves, nearly blacking out at the intensity of it. Blindly he reached down and wrapped a hand around Sherlock's cock, jerking it roughly a few times until he heard a sharp cry and felt warm liquid shoot against his hand. John pulled out carefully and collapsed onto Sherlock, breathing heavily, not caring about the stickiness between them, just enjoying the moment. 

"Well, that was pleasant." Sherlock said after a few moments of breathless gasping. 

"Just pleasant?!" John questioned.

Sherlock chuckled, "Well how else do you describe mind blowing sex with your pretend husband?" 

"Good point," John agreed laughing.

The pair fell into a comfortable silence, eventually John rolled over so that he wasn't squashing Sherlock. 

Now that the bliss of the orgasm had started to fade, John could feel panic start to settle in his stomach, worrying what was going to happen now.

As if sensing his distress, Sherlock turned to face John, placing one hand around John's hip and saying in a low voice, "Next time I want to ride you."

Needless to say neither of them got much sleep that night. 

\---------------------------------------

John was on his third cup of coffee by lunch time. Vivi had taken them around the city to see various monuments, and every time Sherlock sat down John couldn't help but smirk, knowing that the detective could feel the effects of last night. 

"What are you thinking about?" Sherlock startled John out of his thoughts, the group was walking slowly towards a restaurant, following Vivi, who was following a map. 

John's eyes strayed to the scarf wrapped around Sherlock's neck, smirking with the knowledge that underneath the thick wool Sherlock's skin was peppered with darkening bruises and teeth marks. 

"Just thinking about Mycroft," John teased Sherlock.

"Mycroft?" Sherlock frowned.

"Yes," John said, keeping his face straight, "He's always been very attractive to me, and now that you've opened me up for to being with other men, I'd like your permission to pursue him." 

Sherlock stared at him is disbelief for a second, then looked away and said without emotion, "I don't think Mycroft will appreciate your advances, but you may pursue whoever you wish." 

John chuckled, "I'm teasing you you git!" 

They were at the back of the group and as they entered the building behind Rose and Emma, John pulled Sherlock down for a quick, intense kiss. 

"This doesn't look right!" Vivi's voice rang out nervously, breaking John and Sherlock apart. 

They were in a restaurant all right, but one that had obviously been abandoned. All the windows had boards covering them and the tables had toppled over. Everything was covered in a layer of dust and there was definitely something rotting in one corner.

"Dammit!" Sherlock hissed and turned around so fast his trench coat billowed out around him. 

"Too late, sunshine." A cold voice echoed around the room, and John could hear the unmistakable click of a gun having its safety cap removed. 

John turned around slowly, tensed. A burly man had a long sleek handgun pointed directly at Sherlock's forehead, causing John's blood to run cold. 

"You think you're so smart, don't you Sherlock Holmes?" The man sneered, and John realised with a start that it was the bus driver! 

"Jack Parkers. I should have known, you have Ming Assassin written all over you," Sherlock's voice was calm and even. 

"Jack?" Vivi asked, voice shaking, "What's going on?"   
"Shut it slut!" The bus driver - Jack - barked at Vivi, then added, "You're pretty and blonde, I'll have fun smearing your blood along the walls." 

Vivi whimpered and grew pale, Sherlock didn't flinch, keeping his eyes on Jack. 

"So Mr Holmes," Jack drawled, "Bet you think you're so clever, following me to Sweden," Jack spat on the ground, "With these disgusting faggots, oh, I'm looking forward to killing you, all your snooping and proding. Although," Jack moved forward, training his gun on John instead, "Maybe I should kill your pretty boyfriend instead, let me test the famous stone heart of Sherlock Holmes by killing off his little soldier, how would you like that, Mr consulting detective?" 

A silence rang through the room, no one dared to move. 

"Speak!" Jack roared at Sherlock. 

"I'd really prefer you didn't - kill John that is, or any of us, but you won't listen to me." Sherlock's voice was calm and emotionless. 

"You're right of course, I want listen to you." Jack mused, "Do you know how many people I've killed detective?" 

Jack didn't wait for an answer, "Hundreds. But I think I'm going to particularly enjoy killing you and your meddling boyfriend." Jack raised the gun higher and eased his finger on the trigger. 

"Maybe you should listen to my brother!" Sherlock said, voice slightly more panicky. 

"Excuse me?" Jack said, cocking an eyebrow but not taking his gaze off John. 

"Well, I have currently got six snipers aiming at you." That wasn't Sherlock, that was Mycroft. 

John could've screamed in relief as police sirens sounded and six red dots landed on Jack. Jack hesitated, but obviously realising he was outplayed, dropped the gun and put his hands in the air, surrendering. 

Without taking his eyes of John, Jack said, "Well played, Mr Holmes. Well played."

"Thank you." Sherlock and Mycroft said simultaneously, as Jack was lead out handcuffed.

John really should have known Mycroft was in on this, this was after all exactly the type of case Mycroft would send Sherlock on, but John couldn't even be bothered to be upset with the overly - intelligent brothers anymore.

Per usual, Mycroft and Sherlock were already bickering about something or another, most likely who got credit for capturing the assassin. John let himself be ushered outside by the medics who were handing out shock blankets, politely refusing one and sitting on the pavement for Sherlock.

He didn't have to wait long. 

"Come on John!" Sherlock barked, voice laced with irritation.

Rolling his eyes, John jumped up to follow Sherlock, waving apologetically at the other couples who were staring at them curiously. 

Sherlock lead John towards a taxi, commanding the unfortunate driver to take them to the airport. 

"Our stuff!" John protested. 

"Will be picked up and returned to Baker Street before we even reach London." Sherlock replied, voice softening a little. 

The two of them shared a quiet but meaningful look, but then Sherlock looked away, effectively ending communication for the duration of the return trip.

\----------------------------------------

John followed Sherlock's billowing coat into 221B Baker Street, shouting to let Mrs Hudson know they were back. Following Sherlock into their apartment he noted that their stuff was in the middle of the floor. Sherlock immediately picked up his violin, and with his back to the soldier, Sherlock started noisily playing something highly irritating and screechy.

John leant against the table and observed Sherlock, deciding how to broach the topic. Having wild, amazing sex while in a foreign country chasing down assassins is one thing, continuing the wild; amazing sex while at home is another. It's more permanent. Like a relationship. And bloody hell, John wanted it. Wanting to explore every inch of Sherlock's body, fall asleep next to him, distract his brilliant mind from work. All of it.

John gulped, "Sherlock," He called.

The violin screeched to a stop mid key, but remained poised in the air, Sherlock continuing to face away from John.

John closed his eyes and steeled himself, "Sherlock, I want to keep...you know. I don't want to stop...having sex and stuff.." John trailed off awkwardly. 

There was silence for a moment, then Sherlock spun around, dropped his violin and marched towards John purposefully, grabbing John's hips, Sherlock descended to attack John's lips, hard and forceful, sucking a groan out of John.

Pausing, Sherlock all but growled, "It better not stop, you bloody gorgeous idiot," before swooping down and claiming John's lips in another bruising kiss.

This time, John didn't groan, or moan, or even kiss back, because he couldn't stop the ear - splitting grin that spread across his face.

And in that moment, John knew everything was going to be okay.


End file.
